


No Knock On The Door, No Drag To The Floor Every Night

by VeteranKlaus



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Hurt Alec Hardy, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 07:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19825519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: A case on child abuse reawakens some uncomfortable memories for Hardy, and Ellie learns more about her boss.





	No Knock On The Door, No Drag To The Floor Every Night

**Author's Note:**

> Alec's character is just so full of opportunity for angst, and it pains me to see the lack of it in this fandom. I plan on adding some more to it in the future, though, I'll accept some of that responsibility. 
> 
> This is my first fic for Broadchurch, kind of a testy one too, to get used to the characters, but I hope that you enjoy it.

It's not a pleasant case, but then again no case ever is.

Ellie's just glad that, what with her speciality, she isn't on the case immediately or as intimately as some others are. She didn't get the call, nor did she have to be the one to medically exam the child, or to question him first. She didn't have to take the brunt of the case as it reared its ugly head, and she's immensely grateful for that. Child abuse cases are something no one enjoys handling.

Nonetheless, it's only inevitable until she - and, since they seem to be a package deal, Hardy too (although really it was Hardy pulled into the case first, and then Ellie) - was pulled into the mess. 

"There's not much we have on it," sighs Mia, setting a disgustingly thin file in front of her. "We have the pictures of the kids' bruises, but the neighbour's have been holed up since this damn thing started up. I'd reckon they're as scared of the parents as the kid is." She shakes her head and stands up slightly. "We have the kids' statement, and his older sister's looking after him at the moment in a hotel, but we've got nothing else. Maybe you and Hardy can get into the house or talk some sense into the neighbours," she shrugs, helpless, and Ellie just lifts the files into her hands and nods.

"Thanks, Mia," she says, and the other officer simply gives her a tired smile. "Hardy know?"

"Yeah. He got the message - I think he was looking at the kids' statement video. He'll probably be through yelling for you in a minute." Ellie can't help but snort at that, because she's right. It seems Hardy's always running here and there. The minute Ellie sees him leaving his office with one arm in his jacket, she knows to get up and grab her own and follow him out. She's fairly certain it's engrained in her behaviour now.

Mia leaves her to look at the files by her desk. First, she looks at the pictures from the medical exam, her lips pressed in a tight line against one another. With cases like these it's hard not to imagine her own children - how would she feel if this was Tom or Fred? Standing alone, scared, hurt in a police station. Then again, however, she would never hurt her children. She tries not to think about Joe. 

The child is painfully young - thirteen years old, a little boy with messy brown hair and wide brown eyes that, in these photos, are framed by ugly purple and red. He has a scratch on his cheek, no doubt from where his parents' ring caught his skin, and his knees are a mottled mess of indigo, his back and hips sore and bruised. He's obviously underweight; his cheekbones too sharp for a thirteen year old, his ribs sticking too far out. His left arm was broken - pushed down the stairs, Ellie reads, and her mouth feels dry. She cannot even begin to comprehend how a parent could do that to their own child. 

The kid has both parents, but by the notes taken from his statement, she gets the heavy implication that they're in the middle of a divorce, or about to be. Another note states that it seems like at least one of the parents, with a large probability of it being both of them, is a heavy drinker. Without neighbour's statements, or the sister's, they've little more to go on other than the kids' actual statement and the photos of his injuries. 

Ellie closes the file and looks up just as Hardy enters the room. He catches her eyes briefly, grabs his coat, and jerks his head towards the door. Ellie was already out of her seat and heading towards it by the time he grabs his jacket.

"Where to first, sir?" She asks, sliding into the drivers seat of her car.

Since Hardy's arrival in broadchurch and the many things they'd dealt with together, Ellie would admit that they'd grown closer. Just a little - she thinks he'd be able to murder her with a simple look if he heard her call them friends, and she'd sooner call him what he is - a downright wanker and stubborn arse of a man - than a friend, but she knows that, deep down, they really are. Or, at least she thinks they are. After finding out that her husband was a horrible man, and being there when Alec almost died, and then through the Sandbrook case from Hardy's haunted past, his struggle with Daisy and Tess, and then the horrid case with Trish - she'd say that, yes, they most certainly had grown closer from the beginning. 

She can recognise when he's stressed - and she's proud of that, considering the fucker is always too stressed for his own good. She's surprised he hasn't broken the pacemaker yet, what with his constantly lethal levels of stress. She can tell that he's stressed at the moment with the way his jaw clenches and his eyes flick around outside the window and he avoids looking at her. She can't blame him; no one likes child abuse cases. 

"We'll go to the neighbours first," he says, gruff. "I don't get why they're not talkin', Miller. Why wouldn't they want to talk and help the kid?" He asks, shaking his head. Ellie shrugs and pulls out of the car park.

"Dunno, sir. I'd say they probably just don't want to get into any legal troubles," she offers. She doesn't like the idea, but she can't imagine why else they'd not speak up. 

"Bloody stupid," Hardy mutters. He doesn't speak for the rest of the ride there.

In the end, it's Hardy that manages to convince the neighbours to speak. They eventually let them into the flat and offer tea (Ellie accepts, Hardy doesn't) and then they get to business. Hardy presses with the questions, relentless and cold, and even Ellie has to hold back a grimace at the tone of his voice. Still, she can't blame him. These people might know something that could be vital to locking up the bastards hurting a child, and they can't risk wasting time worrying about their feelings. 

"There's always yelling," sighs the woman. Her eyes don't leave the tea she's made herself, steaming between her hands, and her foot taps anxiously on the ugly blue carpet in her living room. "The parents, that is. They're always arguing about something or another. Ross, we see him outside a lot when it's happening, but not until after they've already begun. If it sounds particularly bad, then he won't leave. Probably too scared to." She shakes her head to herself, a sigh falling past her lips. "I hear things getting thrown about and smashed sometimes, when they're arguing. Ashley usually leaves for a while after it - I see her walk out and see her car go. John doesn't leave as much. He, uh, he drinks a lot of the time. I think he makes Ross do most things for him, if he even remembers he's there. The kid's so skinny; I think they forget to feed him." 

"Has Ross ever come to you?" Ellie asks. "Asked for anything? Any food, any help?"

The woman scratches her chin absently. "Only once. He asked if I had any change so he could buy a pizza - I just bought the entire thing for him, like I'm going to make a kid use his own money for food," she snorts. She scrubs a hand down her face and lets out a heavy sigh, and then she leans forwards to set her hardly touched cup of tea on the stained coffee table in front of her. "I'm sorry, I don't know much more, honestly. I wish I do."

Hardy's not satisfied. Anyone would be able to tell that, but Ellie keeps control of the situation and, twenty minutes later, they're leaving the last neighbour's flat with little more information than they already had. An unhappy relationship, alcohol involved, and the kid getting caught up all in the mix. Hardy all but strides right into the car, slamming the door harder than necessary as he gets in. Ellie braces herself before getting back into the drivers seat. 

"Well, at least it confirms what Ross said," she offers optimistically. Hardy didn't acknowledge her, keeping his eyes glaring into the building as if his look alone could flatten it. Hesitantly, she speaks up again. "Do you want to go speak to the kid now?" She asks. Hardy grunts and spares her a glance.

"Go back to the station, Miller," he says. "It's too late."

Ellie simply nods and does so. He doesn't speak for the rest of the drive, and neither does she.

Surprisingly, Hardy doesn't stay for long in the office. He leaves rather early, saying that he's taking Daisy out for dinner, and it makes Ellie miss her own children suddenly. With little more they can do at the office, Ellie takes her leave and tries to push aside pictures of bruised children from his mind as she greets her children. 

"Ross doesn't want to talk to us."

Hardy's head snaps up from his desk, eyes blowing comically wide behind his glasses. "What?" He splutters, and he raises a hand to rip his glasses off. Ellie wonders how he's not broken them by doing that yet.

"His sister phoned in earlier. He doesn't want to talk to us anymore. He thinks he'll just get in trouble," Ellie repeats, a frown on her face. She watches as Hardy drops his head into his hands, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. He lets out a deep groan and then hisses through his teeth.

"Oh, Christ," he moans woefully. "Why would he think that?"

"With all due respect, sir, I think it's rather complicated for him."

"I _know_ that, Miller," Hardy snaps, lifting his head to glare at her. It loses its effects with the dark circles framing his eyes, however. Ellie folds her arms across her chest and shifts on the spot. 

"How's Daisy?" She asks instead, and the question shocks the man but succeeds in making some tension bleed out from his shoulders.

"She's fine. Enjoyed dinner last night," he shrugs. He leans back in his chair and lets out a breath. "Doing good in her classes."

"'s good," says Ellie. "She's a smart girl."

"What're you trying to butter me up for, Miller? You're not getting your job back now," he says. Ellie recognises it as one of Alec's rare jokes and offers a smile in response.

"Can't I make conversation with my boss?" She asks innocently. Hardy rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Leave," he says, waving his hand towards the door of his office. Ellie stands her ground. Hardy raises his eyebrows in challenge. "What d'you want, Miller? You're creeping me out."

Ellie snorts. "What d'you think we should do now then, sir?" She asks. Hardy taps his hand a few times on the desk beneath him, his eyes flicking away in thought. 

"Talk to the sister," he says finally. He stands up in a stiff movement, his hand snatching his jacket up from the stand by his door. Ellie hurries to follow him out and, unsurprisingly, to her own car once more - she feels the need to comment on the fact that he can actually drive nowadays, but she bites it back down - and slides inside the vehicle. After rechecking what hotel they were supposed to be staying in, she set off in that direction.

"You think it'll be a good idea to talk to her?" Ellie asks, briefly glancing at Hardy. His jaw's set again, watching things go past the window.

"Better be," snorts Hardy. "She's old enough to care for him. She'll understand." It almost sounds as if he's trying to convince himself of that. His hand flexes over his knee akin to how someone might ghost over or stretch an old injury. 

"Thanks for coming."

The kid's sister is a small woman with rosy cheeks and soft eyes, and she's named Gabriella. She's twenty-two years old and from the mother's previous marriage, and she came down from university almost immediately when she got the call for Ross. She invites both detectives into the hotel room and boils the kettle.

"Ross is just in the bath," she explains with a meek smile. "Tea or coffee?" She inquires, pulling out three cups. 

"Oh, tea, please. If you're already making some," smiles Ellie. Hardy waves his hand dismissively and shakes his head.

"No problem," says Gabriella. She makes two cups of tea and hands one over to Ellie, and she takes it graciously. It was a cold morning, and her fingertips are still red from the chill in the air, so she's eager to cup her hands around the hot tea and breathe it in. 

"Thanks for letting us come over," Ellie begins. "I'm sure this must be difficult for the both of you."

Gabriella's face falls slightly and she nods. "Yes," she agrees. "It's still hard for me to wrap my head around, honestly, but I think I should have seen the red flags anyway." 

"How come?" Ellie asks, gentle. Gabriella lets out a sigh.

"They were already arguing when I was still at home," she says, "but back then they made an effort to hide it. Dad - uh, he's always been a bit of a drinker, and I saw it get worse once I left for uni. But I never really thought they'd do... that." She waves a hand vaguely to the bathroom door and shakes her head disapprovingly. "I just can't imagine this actually happening to my brother."

"I know it's hard. We really do appreciate you offering to talk to us," Ellie says. "We just need to be able to gather as much information about this as we can, you understand."

Gabriella nods. "I know, I know. Have you spoken to the neighbours? They can probably give some more about recent events." Ellie and Hardy both nod. "Oh, good."

"Has Ross spoking to you about any incidents before this?" Ellie asks. She watches Gabriella shift uncomfortably on the chair opposite herself and Hardy, her shoulders slumping.

"When I visit, he's said that they fight one another before," she confirmed with a nod. "But until now he never said anything about himself being hurt or yelled at. I didn't think it was like this, you know?" She looks distraught, partially blaming herself for not having noticed anything. She does her best to tell them everything she can, and Ellie suspects that Ross stays in the bathroom until he hears them leave. 

"I just can't imagine ever doing that to a kid," sighs Ellie, unlocking her car. Hardy slumps heavily into the passengers seat, grunting in acknowledgement. "All I can think about is Tom and Fred. And then... what if Joe had ever done that to them?" Her throat feels tight at the admission, her hands shakily reaching for the drivers wheel. 

Hardy looks over at her for what feels like the first time, and he sighs. "Joe was a horrible person, but he didn't hurt your kids," he says. Ellie nods stiffly for a moment.

"Do you think he would have?" She asks.

Hardy pauses to think for a moment. "I don't know," he admits. Ellie presses her lips together and focuses on the drive back to the station. 

When they finally manage to talk to the parents, Hardy's ruthless. They talk to the mother first, and Hardy leans on the table and she has a hard time meeting his eyes. He presses for questions and gets under the woman's skin. Normally, Ellie might try to butt in and get him to calm down, but she can't bring herself to. Not when the woman admits that she 'just hit him a couple of times to make him be quiet'. Hardy all but sneers at the woman, shaking his head and standing up. 

"You're disgusting," he hisses. He stops the tape and leaves Ellie to close the interrogation off, because of course he does, and she hands the woman off to more police. 

"Anyone see where Hardy went?" She asks going down the corridor, for the man seemed to completely disappear as soon as he left the room. 

"Saw him go outside," says Alistair, leaning against one wall and nursing a coffee. Ellie nods her thanks before hurrying after him. Sure enough, she finds him outside, standing next to the smoking area around the corner. He isn't smoking, but another officer nearby is, and Ellie wonders if he had stood there on purpose.

"Didn't think you were a smoker," she comments, coming up to his side. "Or, not anymore, huh?"

Hardy gives her a look. "Do you see me smoking, Miller?" He asks, deadpan, and Ellie shrugs innocently. She takes a moment to look at him then. He doesn't look like he was doing well, she thinks; pale faced and heavier bags under his eyes. Not as bad as during the Latimer case, but getting near it, she thinks. 

"Not been sleeping?" She asks. Hardy raises an eyebrow slightly.

"I never sleep," he retorts. Ellie gives him an unamused look. 

"Go home," she says. "We can have someone else talk to the dad."

Hardy shakes his head like she expected him to. "Nah. It won't satisfy me then," he says, looking away. 

"Gets the job done though," replies Ellie.

"So can I."

"Not if you're out here trying to second hand smoke." It earns her a glare, but it brings Hardy back inside and to the other interrogation room where the father had been waiting. He's half slumped in the chair, looking as if he could fall asleep at any second. He reeks of booze and his words all slur together lazily as he speaks, and Ellie watches Hardy grow increasingly angry with the man. She wonders if she'll have to actually reach out and physically stop him from leaning across and throttling the man when he seems to hold no remorse for hurting his kid. He hardly seems to understand what he's done, either. Hardy's hands curl into fists on the table, a disgusted frown on his lips as the man laughs and says "it's not that bloody serious." 

Nonetheless, they get what they need on the tape. Ellie hands the tape over before running after Hardy. She stops by her desk first, finding her jacket and her car keys - just in case, she tells herself - and then she hesitates. It's not her job to run around after him, and especially not when he decides to go off and sulk when he gets himself in one of these moods. She's stressed herself, and she ought to take some time to care for herself - get a cup of tea and something to eat, message in with her children to check how they're going, and then go home and get an early sleep. That's what she should do, really. 

Of course that's not what she actually does. With a groan, she succumbs to finding the stubborn arse of a man after she's pulled her coat on. 

It takes her a surprising while to find him. She actually gives up at first and takes a walk to clear her mind and calm herself - she shouldn't have even wasted her time and gone to look for him in the first place, and yet she has and he's gone and completely ran off. Probably home, like she should go to her own house, but she thought she'd be a good person and look for the prick. She's deep in this mental rant towards the man when she actually sees him. 

He's on the beach, sitting in the sand and looking out beyond the waves. Dramatic, Ellie thinks. He's a dramatic bitch. With the wind blowing his hair from his face, the waves crashing gloomily ahead of him, and the dim light from the moon highlighting all his sharp edges and pale skin. Nonetheless, she trudges her way over to him.

"You ran off quickly, sir," she comments, looking down at him. He doesn't offer her a brief glance, his cold eyes watching the waves. He doesn't say a thing, either, so Ellie continues. "I handed the tape over. Case'll be handed over with all the evidence and the kid'll probably go to his sister, since she's old enough and willing to take custody of him. She seems put together, so I wouldn't think there'd be a problem with that." Hardy grunts. "Parents'll get what they deserve. Be happy, you old bastard," she says, and she doesn't dare reach out to nudge him.

Hardy sighs and finally looks up at her. "Aye, we solved it for now. But that kid's gonna be left doubting himself for years," he states. He looks towards the sea again. "And blaming himself for it."

Ellie doesn't say anything for a moment. So he's in one of _those_ moods, rather than just running off like he usually does. With a sigh, she resigns herself to sticking in it and sitting down beside him, accepting the brunt force of what's to come. "He's a good kid, and he's got a good sister to help him," she says. Hardy doesn't reply. She takes a moment to really look at him, and a memory comes rolling in. 

The exact same situation; Hardy had been sitting on the beach, much like he is now, and he had told Ellie how, as a kid, he had come down to the beach to escape his parents arguing. She wonders just how much arguing they did, then. 

"You mentioned, once, that your folks used to argue," she begins. She tries to sound casual about it, as if she's not about to imply what she is, but she knows Hardy already knows what she's doing. "And you said you used to come down to the beach to avoid it."

Hardy's lips press together in a tight line. "Aye," he confirmed, nodding stiffly. "What're you implying, like?"

Ellie shrugs innocently. "I'm not implying anything," she replies. "Just observing."

"And what's your observation then, Miller?" He inquires gruffly. It's almost curious rather than bitter.

Ellie sighs and shifts on the spot, leaning back on her hands and looking up at the clear sky. "I think that this case has taken its toll on you. And it's not like I can blame you - it's not a nice case. But I've seen you under different circumstances, too, and I know when something's _really_ bugging you. A while ago you mentioned that thing about your folks, and I've not heard you say anything else about it." She pauses for a moment, thinking about her words carefully. "So maybe this case hits a little close to home for you in some way. That's what I think, sir." 

She turns her head so that she can watch him. Hardy's jaw tics and he blinks slowly, eyelashes fluttering against his skin, and his hand twitches over his knee. He swallows and his tongue dashes out across his lips. "Same thing, really," he begins, and his voice is rough. Ellie almost holds her breath and she doesn't dare move in fear of breaking the moment for him. "Bickerin' folks, divorce hangin' over them. They went through wine and cigarettes faster than food," he snorted, shaking his head minutely. "Then I thought that I could just..." His nose wrinkles up while one of his hands wave around in some vague gesture. He looks disappointed in himself. "That I could fix it."

He doesn't seem to look for a response from Ellie, nor does she offer one. He continues to talk. "Once they start yelling at you, shoving you around more than some irritated push - kids don't understand it. They don't understand why it's happening, and then they blame themselves and lash out and get themselves into trouble." He toys with his bottom lip between his teeth before he hisses out a sigh, expelling with it a cloud of mist that rises and disappears in the air. "You can forget about if for years, but it's always there. Parents - they don't understand how much what they do really hurts their kids. They don't have an excuse for it. Not when a kid's that young." 

He sucks in a breath then and blinks a few times, and then he looks away. Ellie looks down at her hands, flexing them over her knees. "How old were you?" She asks, quiet.

"Ten," replies Hardy, just as quiet. "Left home before I turned seventeen. Haven't spoken to them since."

Ellie nods in quiet acknowledgement. "Well, you helped get another kid out of that situation today when it could have gotten worse for him," she offers. "And you came out a damn good father yourself."

Hardy's lips twitch slightly. He moves for the first time since Ellie arrived, stretching his legs out and leaning back slightly. "Aye," he sighs. "S'pose so."

"And you know, uh, you can talk to me if you ever want to," she adds, hesitant. Hardy gives her an odd look.

"Don't get all sappy on me now, Miller," he groans. 

"You can't just open up to me like that and then act like nothing happened," she defends readily. Hardy looks almost amused by that, as if to say that it's not his problem. With a sigh, Ellie stands up and takes a step to the side. "Are you coming then?" She asks. 

"Coming where?" Hardy asks, his eyebrows drawing together.

"I know you haven't eaten all day, and I'm hungry too. I think the least we deserve is a nice meal for once."

"I'm not going out somewhere," Hardy states, but he does heave himself to his feet. 

"Then I'll make something," shrugs Ellie. "Fred would love to see you again for a while."

Hardy makes a show of looking exasperated at Ellie, but he relents. "Aye, alright. Walk before I change my mind." He waves her forwards and, with a victorious little grin, Ellie walks.

She feels like a weight's lifted off her shoulders, and she feels like one has probably been lifted off Hardy's, too. She feels like she understands him a little better. 


End file.
